


it's just a supercut of us

by cryoreal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Snapshots, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just for fun, trope-y as hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-03 00:25:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryoreal/pseuds/cryoreal
Summary: A disgustingly fluffy snapshot-esque work about milestones in Jon and Sansa's life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be my work for the next round of the Jonsa Exchange, but I got waaay too many words in before realizing that I didn't include holidays at all. So, I'm posting it as a separate work and creating something new for the exchange. Yay twice as many fics!
> 
> I have a few chapters written and the rest basically outlined. Enjoy!

The dawn was barely breaking as Jon pulled up to the trailhead, stretching his arms over his head dramatically. It was late fall, and the leaves swirled around them gently as Sansa opened the back of the SUV to let Lady and Ghost out, the dogs chasing each other in circles to expend some of the energy they built up over the car ride. 

Jon was tightening the laces on his hiking boots when Sansa crept up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly. He smelled like woods and pine and a hint of crisp snow, and she buried her face in his back happily.

“Hello to you too,” he murmured, turning around in her arms so that he could hold her back. 

“You ready to head out?” she asked, her cheek pressed into his chest, and he pressed a light kiss to the top of her head.

“I think the dogs are, whether we’re ready or not.”

Lady and Ghost were chasing circles around each other at the start of the trail, yapping and dancing around like they didn’t weigh 80 pounds each, and Sansa jogged forward to clip their leads on before swinging her backpack on and heading into the forest. 

It was their Sunday ritual that she, Jon, and their fur babies started off the day with a five mile hike in their nearest state park. It let the pups let out more steam than they did on their daily walks around the block, and it was no secret that it was Sansa’s favorite time of the week as well. With winter coming soon, they wouldn’t be able to hike for a while, and Sansa was enjoying the crisp air and the crackle of leaves under her boots. 

Jon caught up to her quickly, twisting his hair into an elastic before taking Ghost’s lead from her left hand. Their walks were usually quiet, a way to unwind before the coming week of work and responsibilities, and Sansa wrapped her free arm around his waist as they paced the trail. 

“Do you think this will be our last walk?” Sansa had paused at an overlook, her arms resting on the balcony as Lady panted at her feet. The sky was painted in oranges and yellows, the sun casting a haze on the few clouds that were speckled across the horizon.

“Probably. It’s getting a bit too chilly for us to keep up with these beasts.” Jon brushed her braid off her back and pressed a kiss to the skin he exposed above the collar of her vest, and Sansa let her eyes drift shut happily. 

“What on earth are we going to do with these fools over the winter?” She knelt down to Lady’s level and the pup eagerly licked her cheek, causing her to giggle. Ghost was silent on her other side, as was usual for the giant Samoyed, and she ruffled the fur on his neck to show that she hadn’t forgotten about him. 

“We’re going to take them to the dog park every day, no matter how much snow is on the ground.” 

“They’re going to need so many Christmas presents to make up for this.” Sansa made a kissy face at Ghost and he bumped his snout into her chest, nearly knocking her back onto her ass. 

“Careful there, big guy,” she laughed, using the bottom rail on the balcony to stand back up. She took Jon’s hand as they set off down the trail again, the sunlight tickling her skin through the leaves and leaving Jon dappled in gold. 

They were three quarters of the way through the trail, hiking alongside the shoreline of the lake shimmering in the early morning light when Jon jolted to a halt.

“Go on ahead, it’s just my shoe,” he called forward to her and Sansa shrugged back, letting Lady tug her forward. They walked this trail enough that she could tell when they were almost finished and Sansa usually had to jog the last half mile to keep up with her eager girl. 

Jon and Ghost didn’t catch back up until Lady finally stopped to do her business next to a bush on the edge of the treeline, and Sansa stooped down to give Ghost a little love again. He was strong and silent, much like Jon, but he melted under Sansa’s fingertips like a puppy.

As she scratched around his collar, she noticed a strange, small box attached to his collar - lined in velvet and hinged on one end. Sansa couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over her face as she unhooked the box from the clip on his collar and held it up, noticing the way Jon sheepishly stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Is this what I think it is?” Sansa cried, brandishing the box at him, and he rocked back on his heels before saying “Maybe you should open it and find out.”

She wrapped Lady’s leash around her wrist before cracking open the box, a teardrop-shaped gem surrounded by smaller diamonds with a delicate silver band swimming at her through her tears. “It’s perfect, Jon.”

“So… is that a yes?” He had wound his fingers into Ghost’s fur at his side while she examined the ring, and Sansa laughed through the tears that were about to spill down her cheeks. 

“Yes, of course! Yes!” She flung herself into his arms, laughing, and Ghost and Lady jumped in circles around them. Sansa ignored the dogs’ capers and instead pressed her lips to Jon’s cheek and then his lips, savoring in the taste of his chuckle against her. 

They only broke apart when Lady began to bark at them, eager to run some more, and Jon helped to untangle their legs from the dogs’ leads. 

They watched their pups chase and yap at each other down the trail, occasionally nipping at each other, and Sansa’s heart grew full.

“We’re going to need a bigger backyard.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this "chapter" is closer to a drabble since it's under 500 words, but since each chapter is a different event it felt strange to lump it anywhere else, so here you go! I'm working on the next chapter now, and the chapter after that is already finished.

“Okay, everyone, I have a speech so you all can shut your mouths now!” Margaery called out over the crowd, and the dull roar in Sansa’s backyard settled into a general murmur as they focused on her best friend.

Sansa was curled into Jon’s side on a blanket, a small fire crackling in the center of a circle of all of their closest friends and family. Lady and Ghost were laying at Sansa’s side, keeping her free side warm. Jon was rubbing her arm slowly and she snuggled tighter under his arm as Margaery stood up, the flames playing off her waist-length hair. 

Margaery picked up her wine glass from her side with a wide smile. “First of all, congratulations to Jon and Sansa, who as we all know got engaged last week!” Sansa ducked her head as Robb and Arya led a chorus of wolf howls, and Margaery placated them with a raised hand.

“I am so honored that Sansa has chosen me to be her maid of honor. Sam and I will be planning the bitchingest bridal shower and bachelor/bachelorette parties that have ever happened, so you should all be keeping your eyes out for those invites.

“Seriously, now… Sansa, you have been my best friend for seven years now and I am so happy for you. I think it’s slightly ridiculous that you want your dogs to be in your wedding-” Sansa let out an indignant huff at that “-but I accept that and you because I love you and your fiance and your love of dogs.” 

“Good, because you’re not getting a ring on this finger without them,” Sansa called to her, snuggling Lady tighter into her side, and Margaery flipped her the bird before continuing. 

“It’s been so amazing watching the two of you fall in love. You are honestly just perfect for each other, no matter how often I have to hear Sansa complain about your underwear on the floor. Your wedding is going to be beautiful and I’m so happy for both of you. Cheers!” 

Jon whooped next to her as they all raised their glasses and took a sip, and Sansa hummed happily as she downed her wine. The fire was warm, Jon was solid and comfortable, and Lady was curled on top of her feet with her family surrounding them. 

“You’re still never getting me into a dress,” Arya called over the fire, and Sansa thought she saw her mother’s eyes roll back into her head. 

“You can wear slacks, Arya, Jesus.” 

“Deal.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should disclaim again that this has NO plot. None. But it's fun! Enjoy!

Margaery Tyrell never did anything halfway.

It was the nature of their relationship together that when Sansa showed up at her apartment at 4:30 on the dot as requested, Margaery shoved an itinerary into her hands and told her to “study up, you don’t want to miss anything!”

“What kind of bachelorette party requires an itinerary?” Sansa groused to herself as she scanned it. Bar, club, bar, bar… “Wait. Isn’t Asha’s a titty bar?” 

“Why, yes it is! We’ll be meeting up with the guys around 9 and doing a bit of a combo thing.” Margaery shimmied her shoulders at Sansa at the mention of a titty bar. “Come on, we need to get you ready before the other girls get here.”

“I am ready.”

“Did you even brush your hair today?”

“Marg!” Sansa exclaimed, patting her hair. “It looks fine.”

“You look like you’re going to stay at home in your pajamas tonight, which is definitely not the case, dear. We’re going to give you a bit more panache for tonight.”

Sansa knew when to argue and when to give up, and tonight was not a night to fight with her best friend. “Fine. Just don’t draw any dicks on my face, because I know you’re gonna attack me with your makeup too.”

“No promises!”

Forty minutes later, Sansa was dressed in a far skimpier dress than she would have picked herself, but she had to admit - Margaery knew what she was doing. 

It was a skintight dress in a deep forest green, sleeves just past her elbows and the hem falling just above her knees. It was tighter than she usually liked, but for a night of bar hopping, it was perfect. 

Her makeup was smoky and dark, and she barely recognized herself in the mirror. 

“I don’t know, Marg. Should we take a bit of it off?”

“You look incredible. I know it’s out of your usual zone, but you’ll fit right in. We can take it off if you really want, but you need to know that you are smoking hot.”

Sansa laughed nervously, combing her hair back a little. “Fine. But I reserve the right to wipe it all off in some sleazy bathroom later.”

“I packed makeup wipes already.” Margaery passed her a clutch and a small grin, coming up beside her in front of the mirror. “The rest of the girls should be here any minute. Are you ready?”

Sansa heaved a sigh before letting the grin overcome her face. “Let’s have some fun.”

*****

They were on their third bar, and Sansa was well and truly drunk. 

She knew Margaery was well-connected, but it seemed there were five people at every bar who wanted to buy her a shot to celebrate. And she let them.

She had passed a good few of them off, to be fair - Arya was even drunker than she was, and trying to throw punches on the dance floor when men got too handsy. Margaery was flushed and giggling a bit too loudly at the bartender right now. Jeyne had already snuck off to puke once, and pretended like it never happened when she came back. 

Gilly was the only one who wasn’t drunk, and that was only because she was pregnant. Sansa did see her sip a glass of red wine at one of the bars, but that was as far as it got.

Above all things, though, Sansa was hot. 

Her dress was small and tight and all things Margaery adored, but every shot she took lit her skin on fire. 

She had to shout over the bass three times before Margaery heard her. 

“When are we leaving? What’s next?”

“You’re done having fun already?” Margaery shouted back, half dancing on the edge of the dance floor and making sure Arya didn’t actually throw any of the punches she was threatening to.

“It’s hot!” 

“Okay, okay. Asha’s is next, we can go. Ladies!” 

It only took five minutes and Jeyne physically dragging Arya away from some burly man she wanted to fight before they were stumbling down the street to Asha’s. 

“Are the boys there yet?” The cool air felt good on Sansa’s skin, and the buzz of the alcohol was wearing off, leaving her tired and sweaty. 

“They should have gotten there ten minutes ago if Sam stuck to the schedule.” Margaery was wobbling in her heels a bit, and Sansa wrapped her arm around her waist to held steady her.

Asha kept a dark but mostly classy establishment - at least, as classy as a strip club could be. The group of men were easy to find, Theon and Robb at the forefront of the pack cheering on one of Asha’s regulars, Serenai. 

Sam and Jon were kicked back at the table behind them, two huge platters of fries and buffalo wings spread before them, and Sansa plopped herself down in Jon’s lap happily before reaching for a handful of fries. 

“Good to see you,” he rumbled in her ear. “Has Marg kept you all busy?”

“Mmm. Food now, talk later,” Sansa moaned around a wing, dunking her fries in the blue cheese sauce. 

“You’re that starved? I’ll have to have words with her. She should have let you eat first.”

“Booze makes me hungry. I never drink anymore, you know that.” 

Jon chuckled before pressing his lips to her neck, hot against her skin. 

She adjusted herself on his lap before finally turning her eyes to the stage, where Serenai was preening in front of Robb and Theon. “Have you been enjoying the show?”

Jon shrugged slightly. “She’s beautiful, but I’m enjoying this lap dance much more.” His hand dug into the side of Sansa’s hip meaningfully, drawing her attention to the bulge under her ass. 

“Behave yourself,” she chided gently. It didn’t stop her from wiggling her ass on top of him when she leaned forward for another buffalo wing, though.

“You are a wicked little minx,” he grumbled in her ear, but he opened his mouth with a grin when she offered a fry to him.

They spent too much time like that, with Sansa alternately feeding him fries and slowly grinding her ass into his cock. When Asha came around with a round of shots for the table, Sansa squealed excitedly and rocketed off his lap so fast he had to scoot his chair under the table immediately to hide the giant bulge in his pants. 

Sansa tipped her glass against Jon’s happily before tossing it back, following it with a grimace. 

“I wonder if Daenerys is here tonight. She always puts on a good show,” Robb said, coming around the table to put his arm around Sansa. 

“You do not want to see Dany in here!” Margaery interjected, her voice just slightly slurred. “Didn’t she try to get you to take her home, Jon?”

Sansa turned her head slowly, eyebrows raised teasingly. “Is that true, Jon? Did you take her home?”

“It was at Sam’s bachelor party last year, and no, I did not take her home. I did feel bad, though.”

Sansa looked at him in pretend shock. “You felt bad for not taking her home?”

“Because she threw herself at him and he had to politely decline, and then she cried her way through her next show. Yara had to send her home early. It was a _mess,_ ” Theon said, a little too happily.

“How did you not tell me about this?” Sansa crowed, delighting in Jon’s embarrassed expression. “That is priceless!”

“Because he was terrified that you’d be angry instead of laugh,” Margaery rolled her eyes. “Obviously he doesn’t know you as well as I do.”

“Oh, hush, Marg,” Jon threw his fry at her and she cackled as it bounced into her cleavage before pulling it out and eating it anyway. 

“The _real_ fun part is coming up now, so you have to sit down!” Margaery pushed her into the chair next to Jon’s and Sansa acquiesced with little fight. Easier to reach the food from here, anyway.

Sam leaned across the table, an apprehensive look on his face. “For the record, I did not approve of this, but Margaery insisted and that woman is not to be crossed.” He leaned back into his seat begrudgingly, which only left Sansa more curious. 

“Oh, no,” Jon groaned as he saw Arianne sashaying her way towards him, one of Yara’s better dancers.

“Oh, yes!” Margaery cried, clapping excitedly as Arianne was followed by her brother Trystane, also barely dressed and strutting his stuff. “Couples lap dance!”

He threw a terrified look at Sansa, who shrugged and continued to munch on her fries. “I don’t mind a lap dance.” 

Trystane was new to Asha’s place, but it was obvious that talent must run in their family. He was as sinuous as Arianne was, and muscled in quite the same fashion. 

“Hey, Trys. Do you and Arianne work out together?” Sansa asked, licking blue cheese sauce off her fingers.

He didn’t skip a beat as he grinned down at her. “We do. Oberyn, our uncle, he’s our trainer.” 

“It’s really working for you both. I love this toned look you’ve got going on. You look strong, but not beefy.”

“Thanks, Sansa! Arianne says women appreciate a more subtle look, since we’re so… forward.” He winked at her before turning around to shake his booty in her face, and she reached over to grab Jon’s hand between their chairs.

Robb and Theon were cheering on Arianne, and when she was finished she blew both of them small kisses on her way backstage, Trystane following her after one last shimmy in Sansa’s face.

Sansa returned her attention to the table, only to find that Arya had polished off the last of the fries with a loud smack of her lips.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with those!” 

“Oh, calm down. We’re going to eat next,” Arya rolled her eyes at her, stacking the plates on the table neatly as Margaery started to usher the boys out of the bar, tossing down a stack of bills on the table for Asha on their way. 

They were ushered into Mormont’s, a greasy diner a block down from the bar, by a still-too-drunk Margaery who left Theon in charge of pushing together enough tables for all of them to sit together so that she could go “toss her cookies just real quick!” in the bathroom. 

The owner, Jorah Mormont himself, took one look at the group of them and instantly traipsed back to the kitchen to drop in some more fries before coming to take their orders. 

Sansa was curled under Jon’s arm in the corner of a table. Theon was bickering with Jorah about whether or not he could get a “monstrous, gigantic, like two foot long corndog,” Robb and Jeyne were mysteriously missing, and Sam and Gilly were holding hands on top of the table and discussing something too quietly for Sansa to hear.

“I think this was the best bachelorette party ever,” she whispered in Jon’s ear, pressing her cold nose to his skin, and he chuckled quietly before tucking her hair behind her ear, leaving his hand pressed to her shoulder. 

“I think so, too.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Sit, Lady, sit,” Sansa pleaded as she wound another ribbon around the dog’s collar, trying to get the bow to sit perfectly on her neck. 

“I told you this was a ridiculous idea,” Margaery giggled, kicked back on a chaise lounge with a glass of champagne in her hand. 

“I didn’t ask your opinion,” Sansa said lightly, tying off the ends of the ribbon. “There. Perfect.”

“Now will you get your dress on? We’ve only got twenty minutes.” Margaery set her glass aside and helped Sansa to her feet, smoothing out her grey maid of honor dress. 

“Yes, Mother,” Sansa sighed but threw a smirk at Margaery over her shoulder. 

It had taken nine months to get here, but Sansa was more ready than she could ever have anticipated. Between her, her mother, and Margaery, they had created the most perfect Labor Day wedding. 

Jon had campaigned desperately for a blue color scheme to match Sansa’s eyes, but in the end, she won him over to her favorite colors of blush pink and grey. Arya was willing to wear grey slacks with a pink top, almost a perfect match with Robb and Sam as Jon’s groomsman and best man.

Even Lady was dressed for the occasion, light pink ribbons twirling down her front and a fluffy bow sitting on top of her neck. Margaery could roll her eyes all she wanted, but Lady and Ghost would stand next to her and Jon at the altar or Sansa would walk out of her own wedding.

Margaery was just finishing the tiny pearl buttons on Sansa’s spine when Catelyn walked in, her hand over her mouth in shock.

“I’ll admit I had my doubts over the pink dress, but Sansa… dear, you look absolutely stunning.”

Sansa smiled softly over her shoulder. “Thank you, Mama.” 

Her dress was a light blush pink, floral lace diving into a v-neck on the front and a long, floaty tulle skirt that just brushed her toes. Her hair had been done into a delicately twisted chignon and her makeup was light, just a few brushes of pink shadow and a sweep of a winged eyeliner to accentuate her eyes. 

“You do look quite stunning,” Margaery mused, patting her back as she finished the buttons and coming around to hug her. “Jon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

Catelyn was crying silently, just a few tears slipping down her cheeks as she grabbed Sansa’s hand. “Your father is waiting for you.”

They had found the perfect outdoor venue, with a flowered arch raised in front of a pond where they would exchange vows. Lady trotted along at her side as Sansa headed down the trail to meet her father, a good few hundred feet away from where everyone was sitting and around a corner so that they couldn’t see her. 

She wound her fingers into her pup’s fur, marveling at how big her sweet girl had gotten.

“Are you ready, Lady?” Sansa whispered, careful not to move the bow she had worked so hard on, and Lady licked her hand eagerly before bouncing on her front paws. 

“Sansa. You look so beautiful.” Ned smiled at her, one of his rare wide smiles as she turned the corner to meet him. Margaery and Arya were chatting in front of him casually, waiting for Sam and Satin to join them, and Sansa smiled tremulously.

“Are you ready for this, Dad?” she teased, and he pulled her into a tight hug, carefully avoiding her hair. 

“More than ready. I’m so happy for you.” 

******

Jon was sweating. 

It’s not that he was that nervous, he told himself. It’s just hot. Beginning of September and all. Of course he was sweating. 

He stood at the arch, looking out at the chairs packed full in front of him, occasionally tossing a polite grin to some family member or other. He checked his watch.

Two minutes until everyone else started walking down the aisle. 

Ghost sat patiently at his side, not moving a muscle, while Jon had to shift back and forth what felt like every half a second. 

He wiped his hands on his pants for the hundredth time as the music started to swell, and he perked up instantly.

Margaery came first, in a gauzy grey strapless dress clutching Sam’s arm, and Jon envied her. Of course the ladies got to wear light, sleeve-free confections while he was stuck in the hottest suit he’d ever worn. 

Arya was next, holding onto Robb, wearing matching grey slacks and pink dress shirts. She was smiling, though, and clutching her bouquet like she actually enjoyed it. 

He saw Sansa turn the corner, and his heart nearly burst. 

She was perfection.

Her dress swished lightly over the grass, Ned on one side and Lady on the other, trotting along next to her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jon had the vaguest feeling that his mouth had fallen open, but he couldn’t do anything to change it. 

She looked like a goddess, backlit by the sun, her hair shimmering in gold and copper and her skin a perfect pearl. He barely felt the tears gather in his eyes and then slip over his cheeks, and Sansa let out the smallest giggle when she saw him brush it away faintly. 

Ned placed her hand gently in Jon’s, and he marveled at how soft her skin felt, the delicacy of the bones beneath. He was smiling so widely his cheeks hurt, but he wouldn’t look away from her. She was perfection.

He barely heard the officiant begin the ceremony behind them, as lost as he was in the sea of Sansa’s eyes. She was beginning to cry now too, the faintest watery gleam to the corners of her eyes as he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. 

Sansa was listening, though, as she nodded to the officiant after he said something to her and began her vows.

“I remember our first date, when I told you that I didn’t believe in soul mates, and you looked like I had just kicked your puppy.” There was scattered laughter at that, and Jon cracked a smile when she squeezed his hands. 

“The truth is, I didn’t think it was possible at first. And then the first date led to a second, and a third, and I realized that you are my soul mate because I choose you.

“I choose you to be my best friend and my confidante, the love of my life. You’ve made me believe in love again, Jon. And I only ever want to share that with you.” 

Jon realized that he was crying again, and he was grateful that he didn’t have any makeup on like Sansa did or else it would be running down his face. He took a deep, shuddering breath to compose himself before starting his own vows.

“I knew from the day I met you that I was going to marry you someday. We were just kids then, and you were the loveliest woman I had ever seen. I wanted to share my life with you then, and I still do now.

“It is such a privilege to be the one to marry you, Sansa Stark. I love your sense of adventure and the way you look at the world like it’s so full of light and life, because you are the light in mine.”

He could see Catelyn dabbing at her eyes in the front row, and even Margaery looked a little misty next to Sansa. The officiant began rattling off the stereotypical to have and to holds, and after he had slid the ring on her finger he could see nothing but her face.

It was through a tunnel that he heard the man proclaim “You may kiss your bride!” and Jon cradled her face in his face lovingly, caressing the single tear from her cheek before she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fully, happily, deeply.

A little too deeply, it would seem, because after about fifteen seconds the officiant cleared his throat to the raucous laughter of those attending and they broke apart sheepishly, turning to face their families.


End file.
